A Case in Sniffles
by Auttzthoughtz
Summary: Sherlock is in denial he's sick but has an adorable sneeze that gives him away. Johnlock story. Potentially shall be expanded under terms of interest. Enjoy!


A Case in Sniffles

 **Prompt: The first time John hears Sherlock sneeze, John finds it adorable. Sherlock isn't pleased.**

Sherlock sneezes the first moment on case. John turns to look around for the sound and Sherlock denies it, turning back to work and avoiding everyone on the available team.

The second time is when Sherlock walks in after running looking for clues on case. John told him he's going to get a cold if he did it, and it's approaching it. John asks if Sherlock heard that sound, and Sherlock denies that the sound existed as he trudges off in his soaked clothes to the washroom.

The third time, Sherlock is curled up in his chair watching tele, wrapped in a blanket. John is sitting across from him when it happens. "Sherlock, was…was that you?"

Sherlock doesn't look at John. He stares at the tele, some crap reality show from America plays on the screen. Sherlock doesn't see it really. He just sees the colors shining brightly onto his eyes. Sherlock speaks up after the second sneeze. "Do we have any tissue?"

John stands from his chair, folding his paper on the arm of the chair. "That was…"

"Undignified, ridiculous, John, spare me the dramatics," Sherlock says before sneezing again, a high-pitch sound that deeply contrasts his voice.

"Adorable, actually, is what I was going to say," John says as he walks out of the room and back in with a box of tissues.

Sherlock frowns up at John as he snatches the box from the doctor. "Shut up."

"Might even be one of the most adorable things…" John begins before Sherlock throws a pillow at him.

Sherlock narrows his eyes at John. "I said shut up John."

"Right, of course," John says, sitting again in his chair across from Sherlock, watching the detective carefully.

"Stop doing that, I'm not," Sherlock winces as he sneezes again three times in a row, "adorable. Illness is not adorable."

John scoffs. "It's not your illness that's cute, Sherlock, it's your sneeze."

Sherlock curls his legs up on the seat of his chair and wraps his arms around them, tightening the hold as he feels the effects of his early cold settle in more-so. "I don't like this," Sherlock says in a weak tone, his voice at half-capacity as he speaks between sneezes.

"I am a doctor," John says, grunting as he lifts himself from his chair, feeling the spasms in his muscles on a day that's been unbeatably sore.

Sherlock notes the flinches of pain as John rises from his chair and shakes his head at his doctor. "John, I will survive. Please, take care of yourself."

"Can I do anything for you? I'm already up, you cock," John jokes as he walks over, standing and hovering over his detective.

Sherlock hadn't heard him right and his eyes go wide. "You are…your…what is already up?"

John frowns. "Oi, that's not what I said and you know it," John says. Sherlock huffs and curls more into himself. It takes less than a minute for John to notice Sherlock shivering and he walks to the cupboard and pulls out a soft blue blanket, slowly walking back to wrap it over Sherlock's shoulders.

Sherlock mutters a small 'thank you' and leans his head against John's arm without a thought. John chuckles softly. "Are you going to let me go, Sherlock?"

Sherlock shakes his head against John's arm. "Comfortable," Sherlock murmurs as his eyes start to flutter shut.

John smiles, figuring the detective must be really sick. Sherlock rarely lets people touch him without him initiating it, and when he does it's usually of extreme circumstance. John tries to shift his weight on his feet a couple of times, uncomfortable standing. This isn't the most comfortable position for such a sore day, of course.

Sherlock blinks his eyes open as John shifts a third time. "Sit," Sherlock says softly before erupting into coughs.

"Not enough room on that thing, and I…wait, are you asking to be cuddled?" John asks, looking at Sherlock in utter disbelief.

Sherlock pulls away and curls into the arm of his chair. "No, that would be stupid of me."

"Git," John mutters as he walks around to the front of the chair. "Come on, up you get," John says, helping Sherlock out of his chair, ducking sneezes all the way through. Sherlock falls limp in his arms at every attempt to lift him. "Sherlock, please be a little cooperative, I am trying to help…oh, bugger."

John falls to the floor, Sherlock toppling on top of him. Sherlock half-smiles at the mistake John has made. "You're doing great," Sherlock says jokingly at first before his eyes start to flutter and he shifts himself more comfortably on top of his friend, gathering him beneath himself.

Sherlock mumbles something about warmth and John has to find it a bit endearing, though not enough-so that he's willing to spend hours on the floor. He'll do a lot for his friend, but he'll be damned if he wakes up on the floor (again) because of Sherlock and stuck with his back out for days.

"You are heavier than you look," John exclaims as he tries to sit up against the chair, pulling Sherlock with him. "A little help," John says, only prompting the half-asleep detective to curl himself further into John's body for warmth. John sighs and concedes to it, spending a lot of effort pulling himself and Sherlock onto the black leather of the detective's favorite chair and curling up underneath him and remains as comfortable as possible, waiting for Sherlock to wake up again.

When Sherlock eventually does wake up it is slow, his eyes fluttering and body squirming in the doctor's arms. Sherlock's eyes widen when they open to John underneath him. "Hello…John."

John blinks a few times before he wakes up too, not having realized until then he had drifted off too. "You sound better Sherlock," John mutters before he pulls one of his hands up from around Sherlock to his forehead. "You feel better too, no fever. And no sniffles voice either."

Sherlock notices something and stumbles up standing and pulling his housecoat around himself. "Good morning John…I will be," Sherlock sneezes before he can finish his sentence, "fine. I will be better in no time at all."

"Sherlock are you oka-," John notices what Sherlock was scared off by and stops himself. "Morning, good um, morning yes – quite normal for the morning."

"Sweet how you believe that is," Sherlock stops himself, eyes going wide after it registers in his brain what he's said. "Don't listen to a word I'm saying I'm…ill. I've got a soft, blue blanket and I'm ill."

"Even when sick you have sense. What were you saying?" John says as he cautiously reaches out for Sherlock's sleeve and pulls him back.

Sherlock clears his throat. "I…am not entirely sure I want to talk about this."

"Sherlock, come on, please talk to me," John pleads as the detective turns to face him.

"I don't have 'morning problems' every morning John, it's more a matter of circumstance, alright? Now that we have both been made sufficiently uncomfortable, I am going to try and figure out how to take care of this problem again without," Sherlock is interrupted by his own sneeze and groans. "Inconvenient problem, I might add."

John nods. "Sherlock, um, would you," John can't quite find what words he wants to finish that sentence with.

Sherlock shakes his head. "I'm already…I've already imposed…don't just pity me that's cruel."

John clears his throat. "Then what do you want from me?"

"John…"

"Is it really such a difficult question to ask?" John asks frustratedly, getting out of his chair and standing as equal to Sherlock's height as he can. "You basically just told me that sleeping on me gave you a morning hard-on that you aren't sure how to take care of."

Sherlock buries his face in his hands before coming back up for air and to look in John's eyes again, noting how much his blogger just wants answers. "Because I want you, John, but I'm all sneezy and disgusting – this is just gross timing and I can't believe this is coming out like this but I don't want to know what could happen if it means I could lose you. John, you are quite literally all I have."

"Sherlock," John says, sitting back on the chair behind him, sighing. "Timing is never convenient, haven't we learned that lesson by now?"

Sherlock analyses John's every fidget, fraction of a movement. "I…suppose that's true. But I'm still sick and I have something to…ahem…take care of."

"I would pull you forward but I don't want to be too invasive, as I know how you are about touching. I could help you take care of that if you'd like me to," John says with a shy smile, not sure why they both are so nervous to it.

Sherlock shakes his head. "It's just…never how I imagined it."

John breaks out in soft laughter. "So you've thought about this a lot, yeah?"

"Shut up," Sherlock says, coming forward and perching himself in John's lap, a leg on either side of John's. The blogger swallows hard, eyes matching to Sherlock's as best he can. "I always wanted something where I just…I wanted to kiss you and I'm sick and that wouldn't be good right now."

"How about this," John asks softly, his hands running up and down the detective sides, not missing the small hums of approval coming from his lips. "I promise I will kiss you everywhere else until you are better enough for me to kiss you proper like you've imagined."

 **Author's Note: To be continued if gets good enough feedback. Started this while sick, been working on it for a while. Let me know with comments, favorites, or follows if anyone wants this story to go on! Thanks for reading!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Auttzthoughtz**


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